


What Do You Want To Know?

by kayliemalinza



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Bela negotiate terms.</p><p>Teaser: <br/>Bela casts a look at the rickety folding chair, then hitches up her hip to sit on the table instead. The table is thick and broad, with curving legs and some baroque crap carved into the side panels. The finish is crackling on the edges, yellow and cloudy, but the grain still shines through. Dean doesn't give a fuck about the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Do You Want To Know?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tumblr user stunt_muppet: "Something based on the question at the top of your ask box: 'what. what do you want to know.'

"Well, Dean, what can I do for you?" Bela smiles. 

Dean rubs his palms against the knee of his jeans so he doesn't rub the back of his neck. Asking Bobby for research doesn't make him sweat like this.

On the other hand, he doesn't have hit up an ATM to ask Bobby for info, either.

"I need anything you got on the Thomas house," Dean says. "Name your price."

Bela casts a look at the rickety folding chair, then hitches up her hip to sit on the table instead. The table is thick and broad, with curving legs and some baroque crap carved into the side panels. The finish is crackling on the edges, yellow and cloudy, but the grain still shines through. Dean doesn't give a fuck about the table.

"Come on," he growls. "I know you're going to want something for this. You don't do anything out of the goodness of your heart."

"True," says Bela. She cocks her head to the side and swings her leg deliberately. "How about a fair trade? I get this information for you, and then you answer a question for me."

"A question," Dean says. "What kind of question?"

"It is a bit personal," says Bela, and if she were a different person that smile would be gentle. "But I won't tell a soul, I promise."

"What do you want to know?" Dean grits out.

"I think we should address your question first, don't you?" Bela hops down from the table—and Dean is not watching the way her skirt falls back into place across her ass.

Okay, he totally is. There has to be at least one upside to talking to the snake, right?

"Bela—"

"I thought there was a sense of urgency to the situation," Bela says. "At least, that's what you told me on the phone." She raises her eyebrows, cool and innocent as anything, because Dean said a hell of a lot more than that when he called. Sam is missing. 

"Yeah. Urgency," Dean says. "So what can I do to speed this along?"

"You agree to the terms," Bela says, just to clarify.

"Yes! I agree!" Dean snaps. He's not going to like this. Bela is going to fuck him over somehow, but what's the worst she can do? Drag him to Hell? She can take a goddamn number.

Bela tugs the zipper on her handbag. She ducks her head when she pulls out the ouija board, hair falling in parentheses around her face, and Dean tries not to think too much about her smile.


End file.
